His name is Henry and he is against all my principles.
He is not an older man.
He does not have a beard.
He likes his family.
He eats his steak well done.
He thinks the country is better than the city.
He thinks ice hockey is better than poetry readings.
He doesn’t believe one must fight to the death against all bourgeois values.
He doesn’t even smoke.
But I have fallen in love.
And so has he.
Henry says I’m a nice girl even though I live in the Village.
He says I will make a fine mother.
He says I will adore skiing.
This was not the image I intended to project.
But I have fallen in love.
And I will have to choose between Sheridan Square and Henry.
Between paella à la Valenciana and Henry.
Between buying books and records and a quarter’s worth of daffodils at two in the morning and Henry.
I never dreamed I’d end up marrying a man
My parents would approve of.